A red Rose in the Storm
by Nymeriia
Summary: Marrying someone you don't love basically sucks. Marrying an English Templar, being a French Assassin, sucks even more. But duty is duty and Clémence Dorian would do anything to preserve the Brotherhood. Even moving to London, marrying a Templar and eventually falling in love with some ruthless gang leader.
1. Prologue

_Hello everyone! This is my first Assassin's Creed fanfiction and I hesitated much before posting it. I hope you will like it, and I apologize in advance for all the spelling mistakes you will find (I am French), please do not hesitate to correct me._ _This fanfiction takes place during the events of Assassin's Creed Syndicate. Enjoy!_

* * *

 _South France, 1668_

"Hello, Mother!"

"Hello, angel. How was your day?"

She walked inside of the provincial church the Assassins used as a hideout. Her mother, she looked alike so much kissed her on the forehead. She raised her hazel eyes to meet her progenitor sweet gaze. Their voices were echoing into the empty building.

"Quite boring, to tell the truth. Contracts do not abound these days... What about yours?"

"I see. I did not do much, actually."

"How can't you miss being an Assassin?"

"Well, technically, I still am one. But as you said, there is not much to be done here…"

The girl smiled at her mother, she was right. Since they were living in the province, their life was quite boring. She missed her stay in Paris where she spent a month with the "urban" Assassins. Her days were never the same while they all looked alike here.

" _Madame_ Dorian, _Mademoiselle!_ MentorDeschampsishererightnow!"

The two ladies turned around to see Honoré, a young Apprentice, standing next to the stoup, his face bright red. The young boy had his hands on his knees, breathing harshly, he looked like he has just ran a marathon.

"Hey! Calm down Honoré, take a deep breath and speak slowly, please, I did not get a word!" complained Madame Dorian.

Mademoiselle took two steps toward the Initiate, put her arm around his shoulder and helped him to sit on a bench.

"Master Deschamps is apparently paying us a visit." She translated. "But why would he come so far in South-East?"

"Because there is a mission I need someone to accomplice and Parisians Assassin's cannot fit for this task."

The two women and the teenager turned to face a giant's silhouette; in the door opening was standing the muscle-bound of Great Master Deschamps, his piercing blues eyes considering the three of them.

"Good evening, ladies, Honoré. First of all, Amélie, I will need you to convene all our brothers from here, especially our young women." He said to Madame, holding her by her shoulder.

"Clémence, would you?"

"Sure Mother."

"CLEMENCE!"

A red-haired teenage girl ran through the room and fell into Mademoiselle's arms. She had the same Forget-Me-Not-eyes as her father and was wearing a blue dress. The teenager ran her hand through Clémence chestnut curly hair.

"I missed you so much! Life in Paris was boring without you; especially because papa won't let me train! Anyway. You are so pretty!" She claimed. "Is not she, papa?"

"She surely is Lucile."

{°°°¨**-~-**¨°°°}

"Brothers and Sisters from the South. You must be wondering what brought me here, today. It is actually quite simple. Our Londoners Brothers are in need, and so are we. Peter Clutcher, a British Templar is actually in Paris, looking for a young lady to marry, since his two precedent wives could not give him any descendant, he thinks that a French girl would be more _fertile_. He has got registers, vital to us and to the Londoners Assassins, who are fighting a man all England fears: Crawford Starrick. That is where I need you."

The twenty-three Assassins in the room looked at each other. Charles squeezed softly Clémence's hand under the marble table. The two of them exchanged a worried look. She smoothed nervously the folds of her crimson, black and silver clothes.

"So, you are telling us you are going to sell one of the girls to the Templars? Incognito? And how are you going to do that? Why not a Parisian Assassin after all? And what if whoever goes is unmasked, huh? If she is killed? Is it really worth it?" Said the young Assassin.

"Charles, please. Let him talk." Adélaïde, her mother, told him.

"What? Why? They spit on us because we are just 'beggars' from the campaign and then when they require our help, they come back, crawling." His face was red with anger.

"Enough now Charles." Amélie commanded coldly.

"People from Paris? Certainly, young Charles. Brothers? I do not think so, but I might be wrong. If you want my opinion, your jealousy about my young Initiates corresponding with Clémence affect your judgment. Now if you had let me talk, you would know that, yes she will be incognito. She will integrate a Parisian family, and will impersonate their niece who grew up in the province. Then, if I came to you, it is especially because I know you for a long time and I know the girls here are particularly able to accomplice this task. And more, a south girl would not be known in Paris and would stand out from the cold of Parisians girls. Finally, yes, there is a risk, of course, but no more than in every task you do every day; and it **is** worth it if I came to you."

Master Deschamps was glaring at him; he was absolutely terrifying. The young man, his face bright red looked down and let go on his lover's hand. She sighed; he was impulsive, impatient and thoughtless, a true boorish with no wisdom. All he could think about was the Creed, himself and her. Rose, another young lady interrupted the low conversations with a question:

"Would _she_ be alone?"

"No. Lucile will go with her, as a maid and friend."

The teenager, shocked, looked at her father.

"Lucile what? … Papa… Really?"

Master Deschamps sighed and took the hand of his young daughter, looking at her with his magnificent blue eyes.

"Sure, love. Only if you agree of course, this would be the first step of your initiation, considering the ' _she_ ' as your Master."

Lucile made a great effort in order not to jump everywhere in the circular dark room, which was at the back of the church.

"Oh yes, Father! I would be proud and honored! Thank you, thank you so much."

"You will thank me later, child. For the moment I need a volunteer. I have thought of either Louise, or Clémence, since Rose is engaged."

The two girls exchanged a look, half-worried, half-sad. Louise arranged her blond braid and closed her blue eyes for a few seconds, her pale skin making her look like a doll.

"Louise is prettier; she will be perfectly able to seduce him! No offense Clémence, you are pretty too but…"

"It is fine, Honoré." Clémence smiled, amused. She did not really care, and, she knew Louise was prettier than her anyway, it did not really matter to her.

"Honoré!" Louise claimed. "It is not true!"

"Oh yes it is. But Clémence is smarter, tougher and a much better actress than Louise is." Master Deschamps intervenes.

"Yes, and she also speaks English way better than I do!"

Everyone but Clémence looked surprisingly at Louise, she was a proud person and seeing her depreciate herself was unexpected. But it did not shockClémence. Obviously, Louise did not want to go to London, and she could not hold it against her. The young lass closed her eyes for a few seconds. What would have her father and her grandfather done? They would have gone, they were both patriots and particularly attached to the Creed. She looked at her mother, on the other side of the table. This one, nodded once silently at her.

"Fine. I will go." She finally said, taking a deep breath. "For the Brotherhood."

Next to her Charles' all body tensed. Lucile's face lightened up and she gave her a big smile.

"Clémence…" He whispered.

"When do we leave?"

She totally ignored him, she did not have the strength to face his look now. She swore allegiance to the Brotherhood, she had to do everything to protect it, it was her first sacrifice but not her last, she knew it. And after all, was she really in love with him? She was eighteen, how could she know what love really was? And however, if she really was, it would survive.

In the room, a respectful silent fell, as every Assassin welcomed her act. At this moment, it almost felt like a death sentence to her and she fought a few seconds not to laugh nervously.

"Thank you Clémence for your devotion. We will leave the day after tomorrow, at dawn."

{°°°¨**-~-**¨°°°}

"How could you do this to me?"

Charles blocked her way out. He did not seem angry, no, but rather overwhelmed. His handsome face was crooked with distress as he ran his hand in his dark blond curly hair. Uncomfortable, she put on her hood. The sun was setting and the sky got this beautiful orange shade.

"I do not have time to talk about it. I must prepare myself."

Charles, desperate, tried in vain to catch her look, looking for her hazel gaze. He could not let her leave, he thought she was his true love. His soulmate.

"NO! I refuse to limit myself to this answer! How dare you?"

"Excuse-me? How dare I? **How dare I?!** Are you freaking out of your mind? You think this is a choice? Because it is not! Hell, Charles, I am going to marry a Templar and move into a foreign country for the good of the Brotherhood! And you are acting like I AM the egoist? I am the one that dares? You cannot be serious."

She pushed him away and tried to leave but he took her by the wrist and brought her to his muscular chest. She kept her head down as he took off her hood.

"Clémence, look at me. I am sorry…"

She finally raised her eyes to meet his green look. He bent on her and pressed his lips against hers.

"I am sorry." He repeated. "We will figure this out. I will wait for you. Will you?"

The young Assassin relaxed and snuggled into his arms. She was dubious as to his promise but did not say anything. Too tired to fight and too kind – or too loose – to tell him it was going to hurt one of them at some point.

"Yes, I will. I promise I will."

Confused, she finally escaped from his embrace and reached her house after he stole her one last kiss. She found Louise, sitting on the porch, waiting for her. When the blond girl saw her, she stood up.

"Oh 'mence, I am so sorry, I feel horrible for what happened."

"Oh please, of course you do not feel sorry. You shoved me well, about my command of English."

Louise looked down and tears started to run on her pink cheeks. Clémence passed her hands on her face, embarrassed she made her cry. She was the one leaving, and people seemed more upset than she actually was.

"That _is_ what I feel sorry about… I do not know what happened to me, pardon me, I beg you…"

"I am not mad at you, what you did was human, a little bit loose, but still human."

"Oh thank you, thank you so much! I am sure you will be okay."

Louise took her in her arms, sniffing. Clémence did not lie, she could not be mad at her, Louise has been her best friend forever and it was definitely not a good time to argue with everybody.

"I hope I will… I have a lot to do now, excuse-me."

* * *

 _That's it for chapter one! Thank you for reading it! I hope you guys liked it, don't hesitate to comment/review/anything!_


	2. Chapter 1

_Hi guys! So here is Chapter 1! I decided to go a little bit faster in the story's rythm so it would not get to boring, you know! I hope you will enjoy it, and thank you for reading!_

* * *

 _Paris 1868_

Paris was loud. Paris was messy. But Paris was alive. Clémence loved this city, as nasty and noisy as it was. Looking through the window of the carriage, she admired the people, circulating in the streets. The vehicle finally stopped in front of a mansion in the district of 'L'Ile Saint Louis': Arno Dorian's 'Café-Théâtre'. That is where Master Deschamps and Lucile were living; their home was a legacy from Master Dorian.

" _Mademoiselle._ " The coachman said, offering the young lady his hand to get off.

"Thank you."

She inspected the street, it had not much changed since her last visit. The _Notre Dame de Paris_ bells were ringing in the twilight. She watched the foul water of the Seine flowing below for a few seconds: she knew that right under her was the Assassins' lair and felt safer, home. Lucile grabbed her hand gently, driving her inside.

"You must be starving! I will ask Marie to cook something for us; come on!"

They penetrate into the backyard, where some hens were clucking and pecking and then, they reached the kitchen. The two girls ate and talked for a while before they were sent to bed. The next day, they had to meet the Martin, their "host-family" and on the same evening, Clémence was supposed to 'obtain' Clutcher's hand.

"Clémence! One last thing, bring me your outfit and weapons once you've changed your clothes. I will send them to Henry Green, so you will not have to travel with it."

"Henry Green? The Green I know?"

"Indeed, my dear. He is one of our brothers you will meet there. Him and the Frye twins, Jacob and Evie."

Clémence had met Henry Green a year before, during her trip in the Capital, he was an Indian Assassin. At this moment, she was both glad and relieved. Glad because she liked Mister Green as he was a smart and kind person, and relieved because it meant she will not be completely alone once there.

"But… Master Deschamps? What if Clutcher does not choose me?"

"Oh believe me Clémence, he will. You have to make sure he does."

His ton was still friendly but he made her understand clearly she could not fail. Anxiety was now knotting her stomach. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes for a second to calm down before slowly nodding.

"Alright, I will bring you everything you need in your office. Have a good night."

"You too, little bird."

{°°°¨**-~-**¨°°°}

This night, the young lady had a hard time falling asleep. Too much thoughts were assaulting her mind. Even if she wouldn't admit it, she was frightened. Killing Templars is a thing, infiltrating them by marrying one is another. The worst part being that she would be totally vulnerable in London, unable to defend herself. And the slightest misstep would be deadly for her. Not that she was afraid of dying but, if the Templar came to catch her, they would do to her things way worse than killing her. Then, what if the Assassins were wrong? What if Clutcher could actually have children, what if she got pregnant for him? Charles would never forgive her. She then realized she missed him more than she thought she would; his warm embrace, his sweet lips, his delicate scent. Clémence sighed, a hug would have been welcomed at this very moment, but she was alone. Desperately alone.  
When she finally joined the land of slumber, the sun was almost rising.

{°°°¨**-~-**¨°°°}

"You are gorgeous, child. If he doesn't pick you. Then he is fool!" _Madame_ Martin claimed.

Joséphine Martin was a small kind lady, always wearing colorful dresses. She had thick black hair, little hazel eyes and generous curves. Her husband was a middle-aged bookkeeper, discrete yet nice. He was cold-eyed man, a bit stiff with graying hair and dark blue eyes. They were considered as new riches in Paris' society.

The wife was currently standing in front of Clémence, smoothing her dark-blue dress. The gown was gorgeous, made in a precious textile: some deep blue velvet dotted with sophisticated golden thread motifs.

" _Madame_ Martin is right, Clémence!" Lucile responded, arranging her ringlets into a complicated hairstyle to which she added some small white flowers.

The Assassin glanced at her reflection in the mirror; she was pretty but not exceptionally gorgeous neither. Shrugging to herself, she looked away. Joséphine finally gave her a fake diamond necklace to 'highlight her eyes' as she said.

"Ladies! We must leave now; our carriage is here!" Called _Monsieur_ down from upstairs.

"Good luck Clémence! You can do it!" Lucile told her, kissing her on the cheek.

On the way to the ball, neither the Martin nor Clémence said a word. The torment of silence ended when they arrived, to be quickly replaced by fear.

Peter Clutcher was a forty years old, charming man, tall with brown hair and grey eyes. Also, Clémence did not have difficulty to get noticed by him. Her story was simple: Clémence Martin, eighteen years old, orphan. Raised in the province by her grandparents, her aunt and uncle had to welcome her after her tutors' death. She was a smart, pretty and well educated young lady just waiting for someone to take her as a wife.

Her seduction game went all night as she delighted all Clutcher's friends (including Templars). She was not the prettiest, but after a few glasses of alcohol, some smart and funny comments, she became, at least, the most charming and interesting young person in the room. The next day, a proposition was made to the Martin and a week later, they were married. Everything happened so fast Clémence felt lost. Clutcher was attentive to her as she was now "Mrs. Clutcher", maybe too much. He was looking for a wife so she could give him descendants, he did not really care of the rest, once he'd be a father, he'd not need her anymore.

Lucile was finally introduced as Clémence's very distant cousin, and Peter, thrilled, accepted to take her with them in London. The three of them remained a week at a Hotel and it had been decided that the wedding night will happen once they arrived in their mansion, in England.

As the departure day finally arrived, they embarked in a liner after fond farewell to the Martin. Clémence and Lucile had this lump in their stomach as the liner moved away from the coast. They looked at each other and gently, the new bride took the young girl's hand, giving her a reassuring gaze.

"How is my dear wife doing?" The Templar asked her, brushing her cheek with his gloved hand.

The gesture made her sick, he smelled like cigars and alcohol. She stiffed a little but tried to look as casual as possible.

"Fine, thank you, dear."

"Great. I promise you will absolutely love London; it is the most beautiful city in the world. Even more beautiful than Paris! I cannot wait to be finally home: we still have something to celebrate." He whispered to her ear, with an obscene ton.

Her all body tensed but she did not say anything, only smiled. This man was repulsing to her: more than once he touched her in an indecent way. If only she'd have had her hidden blade, she would have stopped him from touching her. As they were sitting, he slowly slid his hand along her thigh, under her white dress. Her eyelids shut, she suppressed the bloodthirsty pulse that came to her. Lucile, realizing what was happening pressed her hand softly. All her life, Clémence had been trained to kill the people who were a danger to her and now, she had to let herself go. And it is really hard to imagine how frustrating it was to be powerless. Unfortunately, this was only the beginning of her sentence.

{°°°¨**-~-**¨°°°}

 _London, 1868_

"Hum. Remind me what we are doing here once again Greenie?"

"Oh Jacob, do you ever listen to people?"

"Calm down sweet sister, I might have fallen asleep during the boring part."

"We are waiting for Clutcher to show up with his new wife, a sister, coming from France, to make sure she is okay, you are hopeless!"

Henry Green was currently sitting at a table reading a book, in a house right in front of Clutcher's mansion. With him, Jacob and Evie Frye, twins and Assassins. Evie was leaning on her elbows, at the window and her brother was lying on a couch, looking at the ceiling, humming something.

"I am sure they will be there in a minute." Evie said, going to sit next to Mister Green.

"Haven't you say that, like, an hour ago?" Jacob asked provocatively.

"Jacob, for God's sake, shut up."

Henry Green laughed softly; the Fryes' arguments have always amused him for the short time he knew them. He got used to it after a few weeks.

After a while, Jacob, who was playing with the shilling around his neck, broke the silence.

"I maintain what I am saying: Elliotson must die."

Evie attentively watching Henry Green while he was reading, said distractively:

"If you say so, dear brother."

"Bloody hell, next time I will leave the two of you alone, I hate being the third wheel." He mumbled.

Evie suddenly shook her head, hearing her brother saying this. She could not show such interest into Mister Green. He was a brother and it had to remain so. Irritated, her twin stood up and reached the window, looking outside. Just in time to see a carriage stop in front of Clutcher's house.

"Fellows? I think our friends are here."

The two other Assassins got up and joined him to watch the spectacle. Clutcher got off of the carriage and helped a lady to do so.

"She seems a little young to be an Assassin and to fit into this clothes." Jacob commented, showing Clémence's gear, on the table.

"That is because it is not her, my friend. This girl is Lucile Deschamps."

"And who is Lucile _Daishampes_?"

" _Deschamps_." Her sister corrected him, exceeded. "She is the daughter of the Master Assassin Pierre Deschamps, the leader of Paris's Brotherhood. _She_ must be Miss Dorian." She pointed the finger at Clémence.

Jacob did not answer after that, enchanted by the view of the young lady. Her long curly chestnut brow hair was caressing her back and framed her pretty square face. For a few second, she raised her eyes and met his look. The young French girl recognized Henry and identified the two others as the Frye. Relief illuminated her face as she stared silently back at Jacob, puzzled and attracted by the wild handsomeness facing her. She finally looked away, following her new husband in the mansion.

"Wait a second Greenie, you are telling me this angel is one of us?"

"She is, Jacob."

"Well, what a delightful creature!"

{°°°¨**-~-**¨°°°}

"It is time to go to bed now, Lucie."

" _Lucile,_ Sir."

"My apologies. Well you have understood anyway, didn't you?"

"Yes, Sir. Have a good night."

The teenager got up and left the room, glancing sadly at Clémence. She knew what was coming next.

"My lady, may I show you the way to our room?"

Clémence stiffened as she nodded; she accepted the arm he was offering and followed him. The nightmare she lived did not end before dawn, and when it was finally over, she rolled on her side, wrapping herself into a white sheet, and started to cry silently.

* * *

 _So, that's it for chapter one! Tell me what you thought about it and if you liked it! I am already working on chapter 2 but it will certainly take more time to write it. Have a great day guys, and thank you for reading it!_


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